


Kindred Spirits

by Magicofisis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Slash, The Quidditch Pitch: The Changing Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-09
Updated: 2005-10-08
Packaged: 2018-10-27 17:34:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magicofisis/pseuds/Magicofisis
Summary: When Harry moves in with Sirius after Hogwarts, they realize that they have a lot more in common than they thought.





	1. Ch Q

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Notes: It's Harry/Sirius and it's not chan or AU - have a look at my theory of how JKR can bring Sirius back! Happy Birthday to my beloved Kate, who makes my world a brighter place each and every day. It’s the Harry/Sirius you’ve been hinting for! May the coming year be filled with happiness, wealth and loads of mind-blowing, slashy, cross-generational smut! Many thanks to darling Abigail89, Beta extraordinaire, for her excellent suggestions.

~*~*~

“I can’t believe that’s finally over!” gushed Ron cheerily as he sat down at the Gryffindor table with the other Seventh Years. He turned to Hermione. “I’m sure you got O’s on all of yours – you should be expecting a letter from the Wizengamot any day asking you to be the new Minister of Magic.”

“Ron, that’s not funny,” answered Hermione, although she was beaming just the same. “It’s going to be mad at the Ministry with no one at the top and Dumbledore not here to counsel them on how to proceed.” She glanced over at Harry as she said this, but only the slight tremble of his hands gave away his emotions.

Just weeks before Harry fulfilled the Prophecy by vanquishing the Dark Lord, Albus Dumbledore had been killed. On the one hand, his rage over the cold-blooded murder of his only remaining father figure and mentor was most likely what propelled him to go through with the Plan. On the other hand, Harry wasn’t bouncing back from this loss any better than he had from the others. The deaths of Cedric, Sirius, Bill and Remus still haunted him. Hermione had been treating him with kid gloves, diverting his attention by helping him focus on N.E.W.T.s.

Ron leaned forward in his seat to look at Harry. “So how do you think you did, Harry?”

Harry shrugged. The truth was, he couldn’t have cared less about N.E.W.T.s. As far as Harry was concerned, their only purpose was to prove that he finished school. He didn’t have any direction to his post-Hogwarts career aspirations, a fact which did not seem to bother him in the least.

“Well, considering that I didn’t really expect to be alive to take them, I suppose I did all right. Might have passed a couple.”

Hermione bit her lip. “But you are alive, and Voldemort is gone forever. You won, Harry. And even though you suffered for it, it would have been much worse to come this far and lose. And now you can finally think about your future.”

Ron sensed the tension Hermione’s comments were causing and he quickly cleared his throat. “Yes, well, there’s plenty of time for that. Tonight we should celebrate being done with N.E.W.T.s. What we need is a good party. ‘S’times like this when I wish Fred and George were here – they always throw great parties.”

Harry was quiet through dinner, but his mood wasn’t too bad. The late nights of revising had taken their toll, and he was looking forward to a little celebration and then an early bedtime. He was only half-listening when Professor McGonagall stood up to make announcements. When he heard his name, he whipped his head around.

“And Harry Potter,” she was saying, “I would like to see you at the staff table as soon as you’ve finished eating.”

Harry groaned inwardly. Why didn’t they leave him alone? The Order was always wanting something from him. He was so sick of the damned Order he could scream. Hadn’t he already done his duty and defeated Voldemort? What more could they possibly want from him?

Harry didn’t miss the pointed glances that Hermione and Ron exchanged as he pushed back his plate and stood up to see Professor McGonagall. He was sick of them, too – treating him as if he was made of porcelain and about to break at any moment. But they meant well, so he tried not to be too hard on them.

“What is it, Professor?” Harry asked when he reached McGonagall’s spot at the table.

“Ah, Potter.” She stood up and motioned for him to follow her to a side room off the Great Hall. Harry remembered it as the room he’d waited in after his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire, which now seemed like ages ago. As they stood outside the doorway, Professor McGonagall said, “There is someone who has been waiting to see you for a very long time. We asked him to refrain from approaching you until after you’d sat for your N.E.W.T.s because we were worried about upsetting you.” She looked him in the eye and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I’m asking you to keep an open mind and to listen to what he has to say before rushing to judgment about him. We all made sacrifices during the war, but his was extraordinary. Take as much time as you need, and feel free to come to my office if you want to discuss any… decisions that were made.”

Harry stared after her as she left, his hand resting on the doorknob. With trepidation, he entered the room and closed the door behind him. Sitting in the corner to his left was the familiar man who had haunted his waking moments – the one whom he thought about only slightly less often than his parents; the one whom he had loved dearly, even though he hardly knew him; the one whose death he’d been responsible for. Holy shit, his godfather had come back from the dead! Harry’s stomach immediately became a swirling mass of emotions, and all the blood drained from his face. Sirius was alive! But that was impossible – Harry had seen him fall through the veil with his own eyes.

Upon seeing Harry enter the room, Sirius quickly stood up and closed the distance between them with three long strides. He held out his arms to embrace his godson, but Harry took a giant step backwards.

“Is this some kind of a cruel joke?” Harry asked, his eyes narrowed with skepticism. “Who exactly are you?”

“Harry, it’s really me. I’m Sirius.”

Harry swallowed and remained wary. This man certainly sounded like Sirius. But then again, Ron had really sounded like Crabbe that time they’d taken Polyjuice Potion during second year. “How do I know you aren’t some Polyjuiced imposter? I saw Sirius die with my own eyes. You can’t be him.”

“Yes, you were there when I dueled with Bellatrix and fell off the dais through the veil. But I can prove to you that I’m who I say I am.” Sirius paused for a moment, thinking. “Let’s see – I can tell you that Remus and I got you a set of books on Defense Against the Dark Arts for Christmas when you were fifteen. And do you remember at the end of the Christmas hols, when you stood between Snape and me and kept us from killing each other? Oh, and I asked you, Ron and Hermione to call me Snuffles.”

Harry remained unconvinced. “Anyone could have found out that stuff,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. He hadn’t kept his books a secret, and any number of people had seen him standing between Sirius and Snape that time.

Sirius nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Oh, wait – I thought of something else. Just before you went back to Hogwarts after that Christmas, I gave you a small wrapped package. Inside was one of the two-way mirrors that your dad and I used to use during detentions. I gave it to you so that you’d be able to let me know if Snape was giving you a hard time.” Sirius looked expectantly at Harry.

Harry was stunned. He’d never forgiven himself for forgetting about the package. It was probably the most mortified he’d ever been when he learned that he could have communicated with Sirius using the mirror instead of falling right into the trap so cleverly laid by Voldemort. He’d never told a soul about that mirror, which could only mean…

“Sirius?” Harry’s hands trembled as the enormity of this revelation hit him.

“Yes, Harry.” Sirius moved forward, and this time Harry embraced him forcefully. They clung to each other for dear life, hardly believing that this impossible reunion was taking place.

“But how? I saw you fall backwards through the veil.”

Sirius moved them both to a sofa and they sat, facing each other. “I was surprised as hell when cousin Bella’s hex hit me, and when I fell, I had no idea that I was that close to the veil. But just as I went through it, I grabbed on to a bit of one of the curtains that had blown inward. It took all my strength to hang on, but figuring that there was nothing but emptiness waiting for me if I let go, I somehow managed it. The force pulling my body towards the void was very strong, so it took me – I don’t know – nearly an hour, I’d guess, to inch my way back to the opening of the veil. I’d just managed to get my fingers around the frame when Dumbledore saw them and pulled me to safety.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Dumbledore knew you were alive? But why didn’t he tell me? He knew how upset I was. He knew I’d want to know that you were safe.”

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. “When he pulled me out of the veil, it was just the two of us alone in the Department of Mysteries. Fudge had been there, I reckon, and there had been some captured Death Eaters who were taken away. Dumbledore had stayed behind to see if there was any way to communicate with me on the other side. He was quite surprised to find that I hadn’t made it there.

“We determined that if it was discovered I was still alive, then I could still be used as a means to lure you away from Hogwarts. I told Dumbledore that Snape had stopped teaching you Occlumency, so we knew that you were still very vulnerable to exploitation through your scar. But if the Death Eaters thought me dead – and they’d have no reason not to because they all saw me fall – then I could leave the house in disguise if I wanted to, and be useful to the Order as a spy. So that’s what we did. I’ve been spying for two years, and I actually uncovered a lot of the information that made it possible for you to kill Voldemort.”

Sirius stopped speaking when he noticed that objects in the room had started moving. Harry was not listening – he was apoplectic with rage. For two years – two years! – Dumbledore had lied to him. Harry had been down the road of despair so many times because of the guilt he felt over Sirius’s apparent death, that he’d worn a divot in the proverbial pavement. And now, Sirius had the audacity to waltz in and say it was all a ruse. Sirius dove out of the way to avoid several books that flew off the shelf of a bookcase.

“Harry, calm down!” Sirius shouted, resting one hand on each of Harry’s shoulders and shaking him lightly.

“HE COULD HAVE TOLD ME! I HAD THE RIGHT TO KNOW!”

“No, Harry, you didn’t,” said Sirius decisively. “Telling you would have put everyone else, including you and me, in danger. This was the only way.”

Things stopped flying around the room as Harry glared angrily at Sirius. “Do you have any idea what it felt like to think I’d been responsible for your death? Do you think I didn’t think about it every day for the last two years, knowing that if it hadn’t been for a stupid thing I did, you’d still be alive?”

Sirius’s eyes narrowed a bit and he spoke very quietly and calmly. “Why yes, Harry, I do believe I know exactly how you felt. Except that I had twelve years in stinkin’ Azkaban Prison to dwell on my mistake, and James isn’t coming back.”

Horror crossed Harry’s face as he acknowledged that, in fact, Sirius did know exactly how he felt. Something clicked inside Harry, and he thought – maybe for the first time in his entire life – that somebody actually understood what he’d been through. Ron and Hermione were the best mates anyone could ask for, but they just couldn’t relate to him, and on some level, he was grateful for that. But Sirius, he could empathize.

“I-I’m sorry,” Harry said, feeling somewhat ashamed for not recognizing Sirius’s situation before now.

The two of them stared at each other without speaking. Finally Harry said, “So, er, where have you been living all this time? Grimmauld Place?”

Sirius smiled and shook his head. “No, that’s the best part. I haven’t had to step foot in that hell hole for two years. Dumbledore set me up in a flat in London, not far from the Ministry of Magic. It’s in a Muggle neighborhood, but it’s nice, quiet.”

The words came tumbling out before Harry could stop them. “Can I come live with you, then? I mean, after school. You asked me once – do you remember?” Harry fidgeted nervously. He was obviously too old to need a guardian, but he’d wanted a flat mate, and Sirius would be perfect. When Sirius didn’t answer right away, Harry stammered, “I’ve b-been invited to Ron’s, but…”

Sirius’s expression was difficult to read. Harry felt there was some kind of a struggle going through the older man’s mind, but Sirius finally nodded and said, “All right. I’ve been alone for a long time, and it’s about time I had some company. But the flat isn’t much – I hope you won’t be too disappointed.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Harry. “I don’t have anything except what fits in my trunk.” Harry’s heart leapt in his chest – at long last, he was going to live with Sirius! He reached over and grabbed Sirius’s hand, threading their fingers together without thinking. “I can’t tell you what this means to me,” he gushed. “To have you back from the dead, and now going to live with you.”

Sirius discreetly pulled his hand back. “It’ll be a big change for both of us.”

They talked for a long while, catching up on two years worth of events, sharing funny stories, reminiscing over Lupin and Dumbledore. By the time Harry realized he was tired and glanced at his watch, it was already close to midnight.

“Guess you missed the party,” Sirius mused.

“I didn’t miss anything,” answered Harry. “Except you for the past two years. But I suppose I should get up to bed.”

“Right,” said Sirius as he got up from the couch. “I’ll plan to meet you at the Hogwarts Express, then.”

“I wish I could come with you now.”

“No, Harry, this is the best part of school. You can terrorize all the Sixth Years and skive off classes and hang out with your friends. We’ll be together soon enough.”

Harry flung his arms around Sirius, capturing him in bear hug and refusing to let go. He knew he was being childish, but he couldn’t stop himself. Before releasing his grip, he pressed a chaste kiss against Sirius’s cheek. “Okay, but you’ll have to write to me.”

“I promise.” They walked out to the main entrance, and Harry watched as Sirius moved through the huge doors into the night.

~*~*~

 

“Damn, damn, damn,” Sirius muttered to himself as he walked back to Hogsmeade. His reunion with Harry had actually gone better than expected, but it had definitely held some surprises for Sirius, ones that he had not been prepared to deal with. Why hadn’t anyone told him that Harry had become even more of a carbon copy of his dear James, only with Lily’s emerald eyes, eyes which stared at him so distrustfully at first, and then, with unbridled affection? The resemblance was uncanny, and it shocked him.

There had definitely been a strong family resemblance when he’d last seen Harry two years ago, but he’d still been skinny and short and swimming in clothes that were meant for someone twice his size. But now that he’d grown at least six inches and filled out quite nicely, he looked exactly like James as Sirius remembered him, right before…the end.

Sirius had still had Harry’s image at fifteen locked in his brain, and it was probably just as well because he’d have been even more miserable during the past two years if he’d had to deal with inappropriate fantasies about his beautiful godson. Of course, it wasn’t boding well for him now, especially with Harry about to move into his flat.

He chuckled as he thought of that popular Muggle expression, ‘What fresh hell is this?’ Wasn’t that just the prefect description of his life? Harry, in all his innocence, had held his hand, hugged him tightly and – dear God – kissed his cheek, and Sirius had come so close to chucking all his self-restraint in favor of a full-blown snogging session.

But, no. He couldn’t allow his mind to go there. Harry was his godson, James’s most precious gift to the world, and a kid who had been through a hell of a lot in his short life so far. Sirius was responsible for him, and he hadn’t exactly done a bang up job so far. Now was his chance to give it another go. Harry had asked to live with him and, while he hadn’t really been thinking along those lines, it was time for him to step into the void left by Dumbledore and be a good mentor. Too bad he had absolutely no experience at this sort of thing.

As Sirius reached the outskirts of Hogsmeade, he felt a sense of hope, something that had eluded him for years. He could wander the streets of Hogsmeade openly now, having received a full pardon “posthumously” from the Ministry of Magic at the prompting of Albus Dumbledore and the Wizengamot. Though he missed the old coot more than he ever thought he would, he couldn’t help but feel more gratitude than sadness. He’d always believed that Dumbledore never intended to make it through the war, and it seemed to be proven out by the way things had been orchestrated prior to his death. After Sirius fell through the veil, they produced a “will” for Sirius, leaving all of his money and possessions to Dumbledore, who had promptly deeded them back. Sirius could never reclaim the twelve years spent in Azkaban or the four years spent in hiding, nor could he ever get James and Remus back. But he was getting Harry, and that was something truly special.

But, God, it was going to test every ounce of his willpower to keep his paws off the boy.

Sirius climbed the stairs to his room at The Three Broomsticks, very glad he wouldn’t have to Apparate back to London tonight. He slung his robes over the back of a chair and paused to take a good look in the mirror. Simply having survived his reunion with Harry seemed to have taken years off his looks. Just the same, his hair badly needed cutting, and he should probably make more of an effort to look like a productive member of society if he was going to mentor Harry. And it had nothing to do with wanting to look appealing to his godson. Nothing at all.

Damn. He was in so much trouble, and Harry hadn’t even moved in yet.

~*~*~

 

When the Hogwarts Express pulled into Platform 9 ¾, Harry was able to pick Sirius out in the crowd, who was standing next to Ron’s dad and looking very anxious. Harry wondered what the Weasleys had made of Sirius’s return from the dead. He also hoped that he hadn’t offended them by turning down their offer to stay at The Burrow. In another few minutes, he’d be saying goodbye to his friends – his family, really – and making a fresh start. There were many things about Hogwarts he’d miss, but he was quite content to leave them behind and experience all the wizarding world had to offer.

He’d found himself thinking of Sirius quite a lot over the past few weeks. Since his realization the Sirius truly could empathize with him, Harry had tried to figure out if there were other areas in which he and Sirius were alike. Hating Snape – well, that was obvious. But they also shared a love for adventure, disregard for rules, disappointment with authority figures, and both had known the hopeless feeling of being imprisoned. They would have to spend some time together in order to really appreciate all that they had in common. Harry remembered that Sirius had an infectious, barking laugh and he vowed to make an effort to coax it out of him often. From the first time they met in the Shrieking Shack, he’d felt drawn to Sirius, and Harry had the unsettling feeling that the reason for this was more complex than him being his parents’ best friend.

Emotional goodbyes were said on the train, and again on the platform, and then Harry found himself walking next to Sirius, towing his magically lightened trunk behind him. It was another adventure, not all that different from when he was eleven and being dragged off to Diagon Alley by Hagrid – a stranger he hardly knew, yet trusted with his life. He turned his head to look at Sirius and smiled, and was pleased when Sirius smiled back.

“So where, exactly, are we headed?” Harry asked, more as a way to make conversation than any real interest.

“It’s a little way from here, just south of the river,” answered Sirius. “I thought we’d take the Tube rather than Apparate because of your trunk. Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah, sure.”

They walked in silence for a while. Then Harry said, “Your hair – it’s shorter.”

“I thought the ‘mangy mutt’ style was a bit outdated.”

“Looks good.” In fact, Harry wanted to say, he looked really good. It was the first time Harry had been able to clearly see a resemblance to the pictures of Sirius from his parents’ wedding. In his youth, Sirius had been very attractive and he was again now, albeit in a more rugged way. True, he’d looked pretty grim right after he’d broken out of Azkaban and while he was hiding out in the caves. But the past two years had given Sirius a chance to gain back some weight and erase some of the haggard lines in his face.

When they arrived at Sirius’s flat, Harry was thrilled to find that his godfather had “added” a room for him, magically enhanced, of course, like the Ministry of Magic cars and the tents they’d used at the Quidditch World Cup his fourth year. With his sparse belongings, it took Harry all of twenty minutes to settle in. As Sirius promised, the flat wasn’t much, but it was “home” now, and therefore, perfect.

They had dinner at the pub around the corner. It was one of the most enjoyable evenings Harry’d had in a long time. A couple of pints loosened Sirius up; he laughed and joked, retelling amusing stories of his Hogwarts days. Harry felt comfortable with Sirius, and it seemed the feeling was mutual.

It wasn’t long before their conversation drifted to the future – specifically, Harry’s future. Harry had avoided talking to anyone about his plans in a post-Voldemort world, a fact that had made Hermione quite testy on a number of occasions. But now that Sirius was asking him, Harry felt like he could finally be honest about what was bothering him.

“I thought about being an Auror, but with missing so many lessons, I’m sure I don’t have the grades to qualify. Professor McGonagall said she was willing to talk to the Auror Office on my behalf, but I’m not really interested anymore.”

He paused for a moment, thinking. “How am I supposed to choose anything? Every major thing I’ve ever done has been decided by someone else. And how can I top having defeated Voldemort at age seventeen? The way I figure it, my future career – whatever it is – will be pretty much downhill from here.”

“That’s no reason to give up before you even start trying,” said Sirius. “Dumbledore told me once that he thought you might have more raw magical power than any wizard he’d ever known, himself included. Seems a shame to waste it.”

Harry shrugged. “I’ve had the Prophecy hanging over my head for my whole life and the expectation that I do great things.” He laughed a little. “Heh – Mr. Ollivander told me that the very first day I learned I was a wizard.” Harry deepened his voice in imitation, “‘We can expect great things from you, Mr. Potter.’ See, everyone has always expected something from me, and I’m tired of it. I don’t want to have to try to live up to people’s expectations anymore.”

Sirius grinned, “So you’re not considering the Minister of Magic post, then?”

Harry snorted, but then looked questioningly into Sirius’s eyes. “Why do I have to do anything right now? It’s not like I need the money.”

“Harry, you have to do something to occupy your time. Otherwise you’ll end up sitting around the flat all day long, bored out of your mind.”

“You mean, like you?”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, and a smile played across his lips. “Yeah, sort of like me. Except that I get out and see people every once in a while.”

“Well, I’ll do that, too; hang out in the flat during the day and go out with my friends at night.”

“You’re going to cramp my style,” said Sirius with a chuckle.

Harry was concerned there was truth in that jest, so he immediately replied, “Sirius, I really don’t want to intrude on your privacy. Are you sure this is okay?”

“It’s fine. Really. But I think you need to be aware that I might leave from time to time and I don’t necessarily need you to grill me about my whereabouts when I get home.”

Harry was about to ask why when it suddenly dawned on him; just because Sirius lived alone didn’t mean he was always alone. He felt a small twinge of jealousy, but quickly stamped it out. Of course, an attractive man like Sirius would have a lover – perhaps more than one.

“I won’t ask about your sex life if you don’t ask about mine,” he responded with a cheeky grin. He had to laugh at that ludicrous idea – as if there was anything to tell.

Harry couldn’t miss the gleam in Sirius’s eye; he obviously had not expected Harry to catch on quite so quickly, and he nodded his head in approval. “Fair enough. I think you and I will get on just fine, Harry.”

When they finally returned to the flat, Harry and Sirius retreated to their separate rooms for the night. Harry crawled into his bed with a smile on his face and a warm feeling in his heart. He closed his eyes and images of Sirius flooded his brain. If only Sirius was just a little more like him…

~*~*~

 

Sirius nearly bolted out of the flat into the dusk of the late summer evening. Control had never been one of his strong suits, and he’d found himself teetering on the edge of losing it for the third time that day. Escape was the only option, and quickly, before he made a move that he’d desperately regret. The last thing he wanted was for Harry to think he was some lecherous old pervert.

For two weeks, he and Harry had spent the majority of their time together. It had been fantastic getting to know him. Although he was a dead ringer for James, Harry’s personality was much more like Lily’s – headstrong, but kind, with a dry wit that could keep Sirius laughing for hours. If Harry hadn’t been his godson – straight and twenty years his junior – Sirius would have fallen madly in love with him. As it was, Harry was the forbidden fruit: the temptation of the devil, the one Sirius had been waiting for but could never have.

To make matters worse, Harry also had a thing about touching him. He was always putting his arm around Sirius, or patting him on the shoulder or tugging on Sirius’s sleeve. He hadn’t remembered Harry being so tactile before, but then, Harry hadn’t been the easiest teenager to be around that summer at Grimmauld Place. Now, however, he had no qualms about physical contact. His gestures, while completely innocent, had the effect of turning Sirius’s insides to jelly. He’d had to abruptly leave the room a number of times after Harry touched him, just to avoid embarrassing himself for the bulge in his trousers.

Said embarrassment had now dissipated, and Sirius found himself walking toward the dodgier side of town. He didn’t normally seek the services of a rent boy, but this attraction to Harry had him so worked up that wanking wouldn’t do the trick anymore. Maybe a meaningless fuck would get his libido back on track. He idly wondered what the chances were that he could find a raven-haired boy with glasses…

~*~*~

 

During the past few weeks, Harry had been on an emotional rollercoaster. His mood vacillated between euphoria – whenever he was able to spend time with Sirius – and depression – when Sirius was “out,” presumably having wild sex with any number of mystery lovers. He seemed to be going out more and more, and it made Harry sad to think that his company wasn’t enough to make Sirius happy.

It’s not that he didn’t want Sirius to be happy; he really did. But he was more than a little jealous, not only of the fact that Sirius was getting some and he wasn’t, but also of the mystery lover that was fortunate enough to have Sirius to herself. Harry had never expected things to be any different; still, it was hard to take when somebody else had something you wanted so badly.

He’d get over this crush, he figured, the same way he’d got over Ron during sixth year. When he finally confessed his feelings, he learned quite painfully that Ron was definitely straight. He wasn’t going to repeat that embarrassment with Sirius; once in a lifetime was one time too many. Why did Sirius have to be so gorgeous and funny and interesting and…perfect?

Studying Sirius as he did, he began to see a pattern in his behavior. Frequently, when they were having an animated or interesting conversation, Sirius would suddenly move across the room from him. Harry had a habit of touching people’s arms to stress a point, and invariably when he touched Sirius like this, Sirius would move away. If Sirius knew he was gay, Harry might have interpreted that behavior as homophobic. But he’d thought about it over and over; he’d never even hinted about his sexual orientation. Perhaps Sirius was skittish about being touched after spending all those years in Azkaban with no one except dementors for company.

One afternoon, in the midst of a debate over the competence of the Keeper for the Falmouth Falcons, Sirius moved away again and made an excuse to leave, sending Harry to the end of his tether. “Why are you always doing that?” he asked heatedly.

“Doing what?”

“Walking away right in the middle of a conversation. It seems like you’re trying to avoid me or something.”

Sirius blinked several times before answering in a measured tone. “I have a hard time… You see, it’s just that—”

“Is it weird for you to be around me because I look so much like my dad?” interrupted Harry.

Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise. “The resemblance is remarkable, but I’m well past that now. It’s weird because… you know, I’ve spent nearly half of my life closed off from other people. Being with others is strange and sometimes overwhelming for me.”

“Do you want me to leave, then? I could go to Ron’s or else get my own place. It’s just that I rather thought… never mind.” Harry’s voice trailed off and he shook his head sadly.

Sirius walked back across the room, and affectionately placed his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “No, I don’t want you to go. You rather thought what?”

Harry’s eyes met Sirius’s and he answered in a quiet voice, “Well, I thought you and I got along so well because we can understand what the other has been through. I mean, Ron’s great, but sometimes he just has no idea about… stuff. It’s hard to talk to him.”

“Being the Boy Who Lived isn’t all it’s cracked up to be?”

Harry chuckled mirthlessly. “Definitely overrated. I don’t mean to complain, but the only person I know whose life has been worse than mine is you.” He flashed Sirius a sheepish grin.

Sirius barked out a laugh. “And all this time, I thought my tribulations were serving no purpose. Now I see that it was all a nefarious plot to help you keep your life in perspective.”

Harry smiled. “We’re both sort of pathetic, aren’t we? So, er, you’re still okay with me being here?”

“Harry, I love having you here. You can stay as long as you like. But please don’t take offence at my need for personal space.” Sirius walked to the doorway and paused. “I need to go out for a spell, but I suggest you read the Quidditch pages in the Prophet while I’m gone. They prove that I’m right about Algernon Biggs.”

Harry scoffed, and continued to stare longingly at Sirius’s retreating form.

~*~*~

 

Sirius wandered aimlessly around the neighborhood for nearly an hour. It was times like this when he missed Remus the most. Remus would have known exactly what to do in this circumstance, or else he’d have provided a needed distraction so that Sirius wasn’t so horny all the time. It wasn’t a good sign that Harry had noticed his strange behavior, but he was fairly naïve, which was fortunate given the lame excuse for leaving Sirius had made up on the spur of the moment.

Sirius ended up across the road from the pub, so he decided to go inside and think for a while. It was early yet, and there were only a few patrons seated at the bar. Sirius sat down, as far away from the others as possible.

“Yer young friend not with ya today?” asked Frank, the bartender. “Haven’t seen y’alone much since he’s been around. What can I get fer ya?”

“Pint of bitter. And my ‘young friend’ is my godson, if you don’t mind. Needed a place to stay.”

Frank set the pint on the bar and leaned in. “Well, it’s an easy ‘nough mistake ta make, the way he looks at’cha.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Frank shrugged. “Stares at’cha when y’aren’t lookin’. I’ve seen it before, ‘specially with the young ones. Sorta have a hero-worship thing with the older men.”

“It’s not like that at all. He’s just looking for someone to talk to – lonely, I think. Lost some people close to him last spring.” Sirius took a long draw on his glass.

“Be careful of him, then. I’ve seen it before with the vulner’ble kids – likely to trust the wrong sort and get their feelings trampled on. That’s why most of ‘em end up on Hedon Street. Well, that ‘n’ the drugs.”

Frank moved down the bar to talk to another patron, leaving Sirius to his thoughts. The idea of Harry whoring on Hedon Street was ridiculous, but it was enough to scare him. Harry was lonely; he knew that. Hadn’t he just said that he wanted to talk to someone who understood him? Maybe he’d been reaching out for help, and Sirius had blown him off. God, he was really awful at this mentoring business.

Sirius tried to remember exactly what Harry had been saying to him. He wanted someone who understood what he’d been through. But why? Was he still struggling with his grief? Sirius was struggling as well, but it never occurred to him to talk to anybody about it. He’d done a crap job of listening so far. He kept getting distracted by Harry’s beautiful green eyes and the dimple that flashed when he was trying to crack a joke without laughing. But he’d have to try harder to be the kind of mentor that Harry really needed.

He downed his pint and left some coins on the bar. Time to go home and be responsible.

~*~*~

 

When Sirius returned to the flat, he found Harry in the kitchen reading a long roll of parchment. He grabbed a butterbeer from the refrigerator before sitting down at the table.

“You’re home!” Harry said enthusiastically. “I was just about to decide how to pass the time today. The mail came – I think you got a couple of bills.”

“Who’s the novel from?” Sirius asked, pointing to the parchment.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Ron. He must be bored out of his mind because he can’t start working until N.E.W.T. results are out. So he’s filled up this whole roll of parchment waffling on and on about Hermione. As if I would know what he should say to her. He knows I don’t even like girls!”

Harry’s face immediately blushed crimson as he realized what he’d just said. Sirius’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline in surprise. Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t really mean to tell you like that. Just slipped out.”

A voice in Sirius’s head was screaming at him to say something, but his tongue was completely tied. He blinked a few times, just to make sure he hadn’t imagined it. Harry was…his godson…shit!

Sirius exhaled the breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “Well, that’s interesting,” he said, trying to keep his voice even and relaxed. He was very glad that he’d sat down before Harry dropped that bomb. “So, um, I suppose that’s one of the things that you have a pretty hard time talking to Ron about then.”

Harry’s cheeks were blotchy where the blush was wearing off – he looked absolutely adorable. Sirius had to chant “mentor” in his head to keep from being distracted.

“You don’t know the half of it. We avoid the subject at all costs.” Harry looked up at him nervously through the fringe that hung in his eyes. “Are you okay with it?”

Frank’s admonition, ‘Be careful of him,’ echoed in Sirius’s head. Harry was trusting him, counting on him to be a friend in a way that Ron couldn’t be. Should he tell Harry about his own experiences? Maybe Frank was right, and Harry really had been looking at Sirius in that way. If so, then confessing his homosexuality was definitely a bad idea; he didn’t want to say anything that might lead Harry on. However, Sirius also figured that if Harry found out later, he’d be furious that Sirius hadn’t been straightforward with him. The kid had been lied to far too much; he was going to have to be honest.

“Yeah, I’m okay with it. I guess we just stumbled onto another thing we have in common.” Sirius didn’t blush, but he nervously tapped his foot under the table, apprehensive of Harry’s reaction.

Sirius tried to imagine what Harry must be feeling. It was still difficult for Sirius to speak openly about his sexuality; it must be really hard for a teenage boy whose best friend avoided the topic.

Harry sat in stunned silence for a moment. Finally he said, “Really? Oh. I assumed…well, I shouldn’t have assumed anything. None of my business, actually.” Although he looked a little flustered, his voice was steady.

“I’d prefer not to talk about partners, but if you have any general questions about…sex, I don’t mind if you ask me.” Sirius stared at the table, purposely avoiding Harry’s gaze. Oh God. What if Harry asked a question? This mentoring business was way too hard.

When Sirius looked up, he saw that Harry was blushing again. “Thanks,” said Harry. “I’ll keep that in mind. It’s, er, not really an issue right now.”

This time it was Harry who quickly escaped. “I’ll just go work on an answer to Ron’s post, I suppose,” he said as he scooped up Ron’s letter.

It was just as well that Harry ran out. Sirius badly needed a wank.

~*~*~

 

Harry closed the door to his room a little harder than he intended, causing several pictures to snarl at him as they fell off the wall. He plucked his wand out of his jeans and absently hung them back up. God – Sirius was gay! Harry might have a chance after all!

Harry wondered if it would it be too bold to blatantly come on to him. He dismissed this idea after thorough consideration, deciding that Sirius would simply interpret his advances as being curious about sex. But that interpretation would only be half right; he was curious, but he wanted so much more. Besides, Harry wasn’t exactly smooth – he’d blindly stumbled into his ‘thing’ with Justin, and his disastrous experience with Ron had traumatized him from making the first move for the rest of his life.

He stripped and climbed onto his bed, not bothering to lock the door. Maybe Sirius would see him and decide to join in the fun. All right, it probably wouldn’t happen, considering Sirius’s respect for his privacy, but the idea did give Harry a nice fantasy to wank to. He feverishly worked his cock with one hand, while fondling his sac with the other. It wasn’t even a minute before he exploded, pulsing a sticky white trail over his hand and belly. He could only imagine what it would feel like to have Sirius’s hands touching him like that or to have Sirius’s cock buried deep inside of him.

Having rejected making a bold, Gryffindor-like move, Harry considered several Slytherin-like plans to finagle an invitation into Sirius’s bed and, more importantly, into Sirius’s private life. There was no doubt in Harry’s mind that he and Sirius were friends; they were rarely at a loss for conversation, and they seemed to be of like minds on many issues. But there was something holding Sirius’s emotions in check, and Harry didn’t understand it. He felt that if he could break through that wall surrounding Sirius’s true feelings, he’d be able to achieve the intimacy that he’d been craving since… well… forever.

Getting up to clean himself off, Harry glanced at himself in the mirror. Not bad, could be better. He flexed his muscles and smiled at his reflection. A little hard work and he might be almost attractive. The first step in “Operation: Get Sirius” formed in his mind. There was nothing like a goal to motivate him to get off his arse and do something.

After dressing, Harry gathered his Muggle wallet and his wand before knocking on Sirius’s bedroom door to say goodbye. With a newfound resolve, he Disapparated.

~*~*~

 

As soon as he heard Harry leave, Sirius emerged from his room. He could have sworn he heard Harry wanking in his bedroom, and thoughts of what Harry was likely doing to himself had sent him to his own bedroom in a hurry. Damn. It wasn’t like he could expect Harry to refrain – he was almost eighteen and he’d said he didn’t date – but it was going to be impossible for Sirius to be a decent mentor if all he could think about was shagging his dear godson’s brains out. And knowing, now, that any advances might not be unwelcome seemed to make resisting the temptation even harder. There had to be a better way to deal with it.

Alcohol. Well, maybe alcohol and sex with strangers. If he wasn’t there when Harry got back, and if he came home drunk and ready to pass out, then he wouldn’t be capable of acting on these irresponsible impulses. It might not make him a good role model, but at least it wouldn’t turn Harry against him.

~*~*~

 

For the third day in a row, Harry had come home to find that Sirius had gone out. The other two times, it had annoyed him because he’d wanted a chance to spend some time talking with Sirius, but today, Harry was so stiff and sore, he didn’t care. The trainer at the gym he’d joined had really worked him hard the day before, and he wasn’t terribly sympathetic today when Harry claimed he could hardly move.

With a grimace, Harry stripped down to his running shorts and summoned a jar of balm from his gym bag. He opened the jar and poked at the slimy red substance with his finger, reluctant to spread it on because of the overpowering menthol smell. He jumped at the sound of Sirius Apparating home.

Sirius seemed surprised to see Harry, but didn’t comment. He took a deep breath and scrunched up his face. “God, that stinks. What is it?”

Harry put the cover back on the jar and tossed it to Sirius.

“Tiger Balm?” asked Sirius. “What do you need this for?”

“My trainer at the gym said there are 650 muscles in the human body. I think 648 of mine are sore.”

“Since when did you join a gym? Is that where you’ve been sneaking off to every day?”

Harry smirked. “Since Tuesday, and I haven’t been sneaking. But I reckon I should have started a bit slower.” Harry reached out for the jar. He couldn’t help but notice Sirius admiring his body as his gaze lingered a little too long on Harry’s bare thighs.

Sirius handed him the jar. “You don’t want to use this Muggle crap. I think I’ve got some magical lotion that will work – and smell – much better.”

Harry took off his shoes and socks as Sirius went to fetch the lotion. He smiled at the idea that Sirius had been giving him the once over. If he were already attracted to Harry, it would make “Operation: Get Sirius” much easier. By the time Sirius returned, Harry had Step Two of his plan all figured out.

Sirius handed Harry the lotion and retreated to his favorite chair with a copy of the Daily Prophet spread across his lap. Harry put a small amount of lotion into his hand and smelled it, nodding his approval. He then slowly and methodically – and carefully within Sirius’s line of sight – rubbed the lotion all over his chest and abdomen. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sirius watching him over the top of the newspaper, but he said nothing. Harry applied more lotion to his thighs, bending over so he could reach his ankles while glancing up through his fringe to see if Sirius was still watching. He was. Harry let out a small moan as he rubbed the lotion into his right bicep. He didn’t dare look up.

“Sirius, could I trouble you to put some of this on my back and shoulders? I can’t quite reach.”

Sirius seemed taken aback by Harry’s request. “Er, well…all right.”

“I’ll just lie down here, okay?”

Without waiting for a response, Harry lowered himself onto the couch, grateful he’d be able to hide the arousal that was already threatening to make itself known. He was certain that if Sirius knew what his touch would do to Harry, he’d stop immediately. He did make sure to have the bottoms of his shorts riding up as high as possible, though.

Sirius knelt down next to the couch. Harry arched his back when the cold lotion touched it, but then he relaxed as Sirius’s warm hands began to massage it into Harry’s sore muscles. Harry shivered as he felt two thumbs track the length of his spine. A little more lotion was rubbed into his neck and shoulders before Sirius began to work out the knots on either side of Harry’s shoulder blades. Sirius was damn good at this.

Harry purred, causing Sirius to bark out a laugh. “Mmmm, you’ve done this before, I can tell,” muttered Harry.

“Oh, yeah,” sighed Sirius. “If you gave Remus a backrub, he’d be putty in your hands for the rest of the day. It’s how I was always able to persuade him to wash the dishes.”

“You mean I could have gotten a massage out of the deal instead of just volunteering?”

“I should never have mentioned it.”

Harry closed his eyes. “Makes me – ow, yeah, right there – makes me wonder what other hidden talents you’ve got.”

Sirius’s hands stilled, and then disappeared from Harry’s back. Harry was worried that his comment had crossed the unspoken line of Things That Were Not Allowed To Be Discussed, and he visibly relaxed when he heard the splut of lotion escaping from the tube.

“Do you want me to do your hamstrings, too?” asked Sirius.

Harry smiled. “Yeah, that would be fantastic.”

He almost moaned when Sirius began rubbing the lotion onto his leg muscles. Sirius’s fingertips glazed over the insides of Harry’s thighs, and Harry could feel a surge of excitement pulse through his body. Oh, the sweet torture! It was so good, but not nearly enough.

As Sirius smeared lotion down the length of each hamstring muscle, he asked, “What made you decide to take up bodybuilding all of a sudden?”

“Ron made a snide comment about me ending up fat and lazy,” Harry lied, “so I wanted to prove that I’m making good use of my time. Besides, I’ll be eighteen next week, and I can start drinking at clubs and, er, meeting people.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Harry,” said Sirius. “Those gay clubs can be pretty dodgy, especially for a young kid who looks like you. Men will be all over you trying to take advantage…” Sirius moved down to massage Harry’s calves, emphasizing his point with a large splat of lotion.

Harry chuckled, pleased with Sirius’s implication that he liked Harry’s looks. “Well, that is the point, isn’t it? I’m not exactly a virgin, and I’m not about to become a monk. I mean, if I’m looking for someone to talk to, I’ll stay home with you.” Perfect, thought Harry.

Sirius paused, but did not take his hands off of Harry’s legs. “I’m not joking, Harry. Some of the men who hang out in those clubs can be downright dangerous.”

Harry turned his head so that he could look Sirius in the eye. “I appreciate your concern, Sirius, but you might recall that I’m the one who defeated the darkest wizard in our lifetime. I think I can handle a Muggle making a pass at me.”

“I’m not sure that I can,” muttered Sirius, barely under his breath.

“What?”

“Never mind. You’re right – you’re old enough to make your own decisions without any interference from me.”

Sirius lifted Harry’s legs up by the ankles and sat down on the couch where they’d been, resting them back down over his thigh, a good distance away from his crotch. He began to massage the pressure points on the soles of Harry’s feet, making sure to find each little muscle. Harry drifted off to sleep before Sirius finished.


	2. Ch 2

Sirius was Not Happy. The comment Harry had made about going to clubs to pick up sex partners did not sit well with him. For one thing, Vanquisher of the Dark Lord or not, Harry was still fairly naïve. He didn’t need to have some pimp fawning all over him and buying him drinks laced with narcotics until he was unable to use his common sense. For another thing, the idea of someone else’s hands on his Harry made him sick to his stomach. He knew it was completely unfair, but that didn’t make it any more tolerable. But what could he do?

Sirius toyed with the idea of offering to take care of Harry’s needs on a casual basis, but that seemed even worse. He wanted Harry – oh, boy, did he ever – and not just for a casual roll in the sack. But they were twenty years apart in age. Harry didn’t want to be with some old geezer when he could have a chance to meet others his own age who were much better looking and not completely scarred from spending sixteen years in prison and in hiding. Harry had his whole life in front of him; he shouldn’t be wasting time with a washed up wizard who had no future and a fucked-up past.

Sirius chastised himself again. He should never have put that lotion on Harry, no matter how innocent the request had been. His fingers now ached to feel that skin again. He wanted to taste those lips that taunted his dreams, to engulf his cock in that lovely arse. He wanted… the impossible. How the hell had he got himself into this predicament anyway?

The night was still young, so he decided to go out again. Sirius knew he had to stop prowling – it was wrong to take advantage of that dark-haired kid who looked so much like Harry and was always so eager to please. He didn’t even mind if Sirius called him ‘Harry’ from time to time, so Sirius always made sure to slip him some extra money that he didn’t have to turn over to his pimp.

Sirius had just reached the alleyway where the kid usually hung out, when he was knocked unconscious by a sharp blow to the head. Two men rifled through his coat, taking anything they could spend or sell. They left Sirius lying on the pavement, blood dripping from his head.

~*~*~

 

Harry woke with a start, disoriented from having fallen asleep so early in the evening whilst half-naked on the couch. The flat was completely dark. Sirius must have gone out again. He cursed himself for having fallen asleep, but was pleased when he remembered how well the conversation had gone before. He was certain that Sirius’s over-protectiveness was due to jealousy. Sirius wanted him – Harry knew that now – and he was perplexed as to why Sirius would continue to pretend that he didn’t. God, they were so much alike that he probably thought Harry ‘deserved better’ or some noble, but ridiculous, idea like that.

Harry stretched. The lotion had helped a lot, and he felt pretty good. He thought Sirius might have gone down to the pub, and decided that dinner might be in order. It was only nine o’clock, and he’d already slept for nearly four hours, so he could keep Sirius company while he got drunk again for the third night in a row.

But when Harry got to the pub, there was no sign of Sirius. It was fairly quiet for a Thursday night, so it wasn’t difficult to get the barkeep’s attention.

“Ah, if you’ve come lookin’ fer yer godfather, he’s not here tonight,” said Frank.

Harry was taken aback that the barkeep seemed to know him and Sirius, but he decided he really didn’t know how much time Sirius spent here while Harry was out with his school friends.

“Has he been here at all today?” asked Harry.

Frank leaned across the bar. “No, and ta be honest, I’m a bit surprised. Has troubles, that one.”

Harry was alarmed. Sirius had troubles? But he never said anything. “What kind of troubles? Did he say?”

“Wrestling with a demon, I’d say,” answered Frank with a shrug. “He’s amazing – can get an Irishman three sheets to the wind and walk a straight line out o’ here, but get him talking, and he’s a wreck. He’s in here drinking ta ferget something, that’s fer sure.”

“He hasn’t had an easy life.”

Harry ordered some food and sat at a small table. He wondered how many other people were in here tonight drinking to forget. Sometimes it was hard for Harry to remember just how hard Sirius’s life had been, and just how much he’d lost. Who wouldn’t want to drink away memories of dementors, Death Eater attacks and…and feelings of guilt over a friend’s death?

He was halfway through his fish and chips when he noticed a disturbance at the bar. A skinny, poorly dressed boy – probably younger than he – had come in, and had upset Frank. Harry could overhear bits of their conversation.

“…looking for someone,” said the boy.

“I’m sure you are. Your type always seem to be looking. Just don’t do it in my pub. It’s not that kind of establishment.”

The boy looked desperate, and Harry almost felt sorry for him. “No, sir, you don’t understand. I have to find him. I don’t know what he looks like, but his name is Harry.”

Harry’s ears perked up upon hearing his name. He stared more closely at the dark-haired boy, but still didn’t recognize him.

“Harry,” replied Frank, “I’ve probably got a hundred patrons named Harry in here every week. What’s the matter – did this one stiff ya? I don’t have time fer this. Run along and find yerself a john somewhere else.”

Oh, he was one of those kinds of boys. Harry did a double take. Except for the glasses, Harry probably could have passed for that boy. He shivered – given his treatment at the Dursleys, it would have been fairly easy for him to turn out like that.

Looking defeated, the boy turned to leave. Harry caught his eye and waved him over. Although confused, he approached Harry’s table, staring longingly at the half-eaten chips. Without thinking, Harry passed the basket to him and motioned for him to help himself.

“Look, I couldn’t help but overhear that you were looking for someone named Harry. And I’m curious, because my name is Harry…”

The boy looked up at him, eyes open wide in surprise. “There’s a man I know. He’s been beaten, and he’s hurt pretty bad.”

Harry’s hair stood on end. “This man, what’s his name? What does he look like?”

“Don’t know his real name, o’ course. Tells me to call him Paddy. Doesn’t really look Irish to me, though.”

Harry tried to be patient while the boy shoveled chips into his mouth. “So what does he look like?”

“Longish dark hair, dark eyes, weird tattoo thing on his chest—”

“Thick silver chain around his neck?” interrupted Harry in a panic.

The boy nodded furiously. “He always wore it, but I think the men who attacked him took it. So, um, do you know him?”

“I can’t be sure until I see him, but he sounds like my go– er, friend. Did he tell you to look for me? How did you know to come here?”

With a shrug, the boy answered, “He likes to call me Harry when we’re doin’ it. I just figured Harry must be a boyfriend or something. And I followed him here one night, hoping to find out where he lives. Never did, though.”

“Where is he now? Is he safe?”

“He’s in my bedroom, sleeping, I think. I brought him in as if he was a john, and no one thought to question the blood. Dalton’s gonna beat the shit out of me when he finds out I used the room without getting’ paid and got the sheets all bloody.”

Harry got up from his chair, throwing a couple of notes on the table to pay for his dinner. “Come on, take me there. If it’s my friend, I’ll take care of this Dalton bloke.”

They walked briskly out the door and headed towards Hedon Street. Harry hadn’t been in this part of London before, but it was strangely reminiscent of Knockturn Alley. Questions flooded his brain, but he couldn’t take time to ask them. If it was Sirius who was bleeding, every minute counted.

“What do you call yourself?” Harry asked the boy as they waited for traffic to subside so they could cross the street.

“Sid,” he said, rushing to keep up with Harry, who had nearly run into the last car in the line in his hurry.

Had Harry been in his right mind, he might have stopped to question the scenario that was leading him through a dodgy part of London by a young male prostitute. The last time he’d rushed off to “save” Sirius, whom he thought was in trouble and in pain, he’d ended up losing him for two years. But Harry still had that “saving people” thing, which caused him to race in without regard for his own safety. At least this time, there was no Voldemort and he was licensed to Apparate if the going got rough.

Sid turned into a dark alley and pulled Harry’s sleeve so that he followed too. Sid leapt up onto the battered old fire escape and pulled himself up by the arms. Harry was grateful for Sirius’s careful administration of magical lotion that made it possible for Harry to follow suit. They quietly climbed the fire escape until they reached a window that was propped open with a shoe. Sid lifted up the window and climbed inside. Harry peeked inside – sure enough, it was Sirius, fast asleep with a mat of dried bloody hair.

Harry rushed to Sirius and wrapped his arms around the sleeping figure. He kissed his cheek and whispered, “Sirius, wake up,” in his ear. Sirius stirred, but did not wake.

“How long has he been like this?” Harry asked Sid, who’d suddenly become very nervous.

“Um… an hour? Maybe longer. Um… can you just take him and get out of here? If Dalton finds you here too…”

Harry spun around and glared at Sid, who cowered. “Look, I don’t give a fuck about this creep Dalton. But this man means the world to me. And if that bloke hurts one hair on your head for helping him, I’m going to string him up by the balls. And I am not exaggerating.”

“Here, here,” croaked a voice from the bed. Harry and Sid both turned to see Sirius trying to wet his dry lips and wincing.

Harry rushed back to the bed. “Oh, thank God you’re awake. Can you see all right? Do you have a concussion?” Harry turned to Sid, who was standing by the door looking worried and anxious. “Sid, could you find him a glass of water?”

“I don’t know…it’s just that—”

“Find the water, damn it, or I’ll string you up by the balls.”

Sid rushed out the door in search of water, not waiting to hear this time whether Harry was exaggerating. When Harry turned back around, Sirius was grinning.

“A power the Dark Lord knows not… You’re amazing, do you know that?”

Harry reached for Sirius’s hands, clutching them in his own. “I’ve got to figure out how to get you out of here and to St. Mungo’s. Do you think you can Apparate?”

“Unless I’m mistaken, they took my wand. Took everything. Sid told me they knocked me out cold before he brought me up here.”

Sid returned with a glass of water, and gave it to Harry with trembling hands.

“Thank you,” said Harry. “Can you drink this, Paddy?” he asked with a wink.

Sirius didn’t answer, but took some of the water. Harry examined his head wound and determined that it was no longer bleeding, although the pillow and Sirius’s clothes were a mess.

He whispered into Sirius’s ear, “I’m going to Apparate home and get my Invisibility Cloak and a change of clothes for you. I’ll try to get your wand back, too. Otherwise, we can hire a taxi.”

“Harry, I’m sorry for being here, and for dragging you here too. I don’t know how you found me, but I owe you a debt of gratitude I’ll never be able to repay.”

Harry leaned down and kissed Sirius on the forehead. “I’ll tell you how I found you. Your boy, Sid, followed you to the pub one night and went there again tonight looking for your boyfriend ‘Harry’ to bring you home. When we get back to the flat, you’ve got some explaining to do, and if you don’t level with me, I’ll string you up by the balls.”

Harry pressed a wad of cash into Sid’s hand before quietly leaving through the window. Harry made his way down to the alley, and followed it to Hedon Street. On the corner, he could see the stain of Sirius’s blood on the pavement. The street was relatively quiet, so he pulled out his wand and said as loud as he dared, “Accio wand.” After about twenty seconds, Sirius’s wand came speeding towards Harry, and he snatched it out of the air just as a couple of men rounded the corner. Not wanting to get into a confrontation with them, Harry quickly ducked back into the alley and Disapparated.

~*~*~

 

“You were damn lucky it was nothing more than a superficial head wound,” said Harry as they walked in the door to their flat.

“I was a damned idiot for being there in the first place. Harry, I’m so sorry.”

Sirius turned toward his bedroom, but Harry drew his wand in a flash and locked the door. Sirius spun around with a puzzled look on his face.

“Now that you’ve been given a clean bill of health, you’re not going anywhere until I get some answers.” Harry sat down on the couch and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I don’t want to talk about this now. It’s the middle of the night and I’m tired. I promise we’ll talk later.”

Harry only shook his head. “Sorry, but I don’t think I can sleep until I understand why you’ve been fucking a rent boy who looks like me and lets you call him ‘Harry’.

Sirius sighed as he sank into his favorite chair. He rubbed his face with his hands, studiously avoiding Harry’s stare. Finally he responded, “Because I’m not looking for a serious relationship?”

“Come on, Sirius. The Boy Who Lived does not make idle threats, and I believe I threatened to string you up by the balls if you weren’t honest with me.”

Sirius swallowed. “I—Okay, I’ve been attracted to you ever since that night I came to see you at Hogwarts, after your N.E.W.T.s. You’ve grown up to be an attractive young man and I’ve been thinking very depraved, inappropriate thoughts about you. But then since you moved in here, and I’ve gotten to know you, I’ve grown to care about you in a way that no godfather should regard his godson.”

“So you had to keep leaving every time we got closer?” offered Harry.

Sirius nodded. “I thought you’d think I was just a perverted old queer if you saw how turned on I got whenever you touched me.” Sirius slumped in his chair, hardly able to believe they were having this conversation.

Harry stood up and paced the floor. “Let’s say, for the sake of discussion, that I could understand your actions while you thought I was straight. What I can’t believe is that you were going to do it again last night, when you must have known how much I wanted you, too.”

Sirius raised his head quickly and found Harry’s eyes. “But I didn’t know.”

Harry laughed. “How could you not know? I couldn’t have been more obvious if I’d tattooed ‘Fuck me, Sirius’ across my forehead!”

Sirius barked a laugh as well. “All right, so I might have had a vague idea. But I wasn’t going to do anything about it. Harry, don’t you see how wrong it is? You need to be with someone your own age – someone with whom you can build a future. I’m nearly forty and an unemployed ex-con. Besides it’s just not proper to have a relationship with one’s godson.”

Harry dissolved into a fit of laughter. “Not proper? Good God, Sirius, since when have you ever been concerned with doing what’s proper? I was going to say you aren’t that old, but now I might have to change my mind.”

“Ouch. That stings,” said Sirius with a grin.

“Well, one of my favorite things about you is how you pick and choose the rules you want to follow without giving a fuck about anyone else’s opinion.”

“I care about your opinion.”

“And I’m telling you that it doesn’t matter to me. None of it matters to me: our age difference, the fact that you’re my godfather, or that you’re an unemployed ex-con. I’ll tell you what matters to me. You understand what I’ve been through. I feel like I can tell you things that I’ve never told anyone else because they just wouldn’t get it. But you do. You know what it’s like to lose people and be isolated from everyone because of circumstances beyond your control.”

“Harry…”

“But, hey, if you’re so hung up on being proper, then maybe you aren’t the person I need.” Harry leaned over Sirius and claimed his lips, his mouth, his tongue in a never-ending kiss. Sirius could practically feel the magic coursing from Harry’s lips to his. His skin burned with desire and his groin ached. He reached for Harry’s head, tangling his fingers in his messy black hair.

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry pulled away and stood up straight. He ended the charm on Sirius’s bedroom door and walked to his own bedroom, pausing only to call “Goodnight,” over his shoulder.

Sirius sat in stunned silence. He’d just been told off by a still-seventeen year-old kid, and damn it if he wasn’t right. Sirius couldn’t believe that Harry had just walked away after that kiss. Amazing. Harry Potter was fucking amazing.

~*~*~

 

Operation: Get Sirius was complete.

Okay, so this was one of the weirder nights he’d had in his incredibly weird life, but still, Harry thought he might have just made quite an impression on his godfather. If that little performance wasn’t enough to win Sirius, then he was going to have to start meeting random men at clubs, just like he’d threatened. Or become a monk.

Still breathing heavily from adrenaline and that kiss, Harry kicked off his shoes and yanked his socks off before wearily crawling onto the bed. It had been so hard to walk away from Sirius like that, but hell, it worked for Rhett Butler in that old film his Aunt Petunia used to watch. He needed to make certain that Sirius had some time to really think about the situation, now that Harry had put all his cards on the table. He wondered whether Sirius would try to come into his room. As a precaution, Harry found his wand and cast a locking charm on the door. At this point, he wasn’t sure if it was to keep Sirius out or to keep himself in.

~*~*~

 

“That little shit locked his goddamn door,” grumbled Sirius under his breath as he turned and headed back to his bedroom. He was tired and his head hurt, and he was still hot and bothered over that kiss.

He stripped down to his underwear and crawled into bed. Sirius was crap at waiting, and wanted to get things with Harry resolved immediately. Why couldn’t Harry see that the two of them being together was impossible?

Sirius closed his eyes and was surprised when a little voice in the recesses of his brain answered his unspoken question. Surviving Avada Kedavra was impossible. Winning the Tri-Wizard Tournament at age fourteen was impossible. Escaping from Voldemort six times was impossible. Killing Voldemort as a seventeen year-old wizard was impossible. Escaping from Azkaban was impossible. Coming back from beyond the veil after two years was impossible. Hell, no wonder this kid didn’t understand the concept of impossible; his whole life, he’d witnessed miracle after miracle.

Did that mean he was wrong this time? Or was there a chance that Sirius was wrong? As he drifted off into uneasy sleep, he replayed Harry’s kiss over and over in his mind. How could something so good be bad?

~*~*~

 

It was late morning when Harry emerged from his bedroom. As he stopped to tie his trainers, he noticed Sirius watching him warily from his seat at the kitchen table.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked as he zipped up his gym bag.

“Confused.”

“Good. Er, I mean, it’s good that I’m not the only one. And your head?”

“Better.” Sirius raised an eyebrow. “You’re off to the gym again, I see.”

“Yeah. I’m going to take it easy today, though.”

“You’re really going to all this effort just to attract men at clubs?”

Harry smiled, his eyes twinkling. “No, I was just winding you up. I’m going to all this effort to attract you. Is it working?”

“You never know,” answered Sirius noncommittally. “When do you think you’ll be back?”

“A couple of hours, maybe sooner. See you later.” Harry Disapparated with a pop.

A couple of hours didn’t give him much time, but there were things that had to be done. Throwing the dregs of his cold tea into the sink, Sirius set to work.

~*~*~

 

The sound of Apparation echoed through the flat.

“Harry, is that you?”

Harry looked around, but he didn’t see Sirius anywhere. “Yeah. Where are you?”

“In my bedroom. Could you give me a hand in here?”

“Sure,” Harry said.

He dropped his gym bag and pushed open the door to Sirius’s room. Hundreds of lit candles were floating in the air, and the ceiling had been enchanted to look like the night sky. The scent of wax and night jasmine almost took his breath away. As he stepped all the way inside, Harry’s heart began to beat rapidly. He certainly hadn’t expected Sirius to change his mind about things so quickly, but he wasn’t about to complain.

Harry scanned the room to find Sirius standing in one corner, looking at him expectantly and clad only in silk boxers and an open silk dressing gown. He approached Harry, saying, “You’re not the only one who can be dramatic, you know.” Before Harry could respond, Sirius pulled him close and captured his lips in a steamy kiss.

Their kisses quickly reached the same level of intensity as the one they’d shared during the wee hours of the morning. Harry had never felt passion this intense, like the opposite of Crucio – pleasure instead of pain, yet just as extreme. It was better than flying, better than beating Slytherin at Quidditch, better than anything he could imagine.

Sirius led him towards the bed, yanking Harry’s t-shirt from the waistband of his running shorts as they went. “I’d like to inspect that body you’re trying so hard to sculpt. Then I can let you know how well it’s attracting me.” Soon Harry’s clothes lay carelessly in a pile next to Sirius’s discarded dressing gown and boxers.

Harry reached down to wrap his hand around Sirius’s cock. “I think this part of you is definitely attracted,” he breathed into Sirius’s ear. He trailed his fingers along the underside of his shaft and rubbed his thumb over the slit. Sirius hissed with pleasure.

“That part isn’t very discriminating, but yes, it does seem rather drawn to you.” Sirius maneuvered them to a reclining position on the bed. “It’s quite anxious to fuck you.”

At Sirius’s words, Harry quivered with excitement. “As a matter of fact,” he whispered, “I’m quite anxious to be fucked. So does this mean that you’ve given up on being ‘proper’?”

“Hell, no. I’m going to bugger you properly, and then I’m going to act like a proper gentleman while I’m waiting to recover so I can properly bugger you again.”

“Sounds like you’ve got this all worked out.”

Sirius smiled before laying a trail of kisses across Harry’s collarbone. “It never hurts to have a plan.”

Harry’s lips found Sirius’s again, and he proceeded to ravish Sirius’s mouth, exploring, sucking and kissing with enthusiasm. He broke away and lifted his head to lock eyes with Sirius. “I don’t have that much experience, so you’ll have to tell me what you like.”

A crooked grin spread across Sirius’s face. “How about if I show you?” Harry was rolled onto his back and Sirius lowered his mouth to the hollow of Harry’s neck. He sucked on the tender skin there before surprising Harry with a bite. The jolt of pain sent an unexpected impulse to Harry’s cock. He felt the tension building in his groin.

Sirius continued the gentle-followed-by-rough treatment on Harry’s nipples, teasing them to hard pebbles before biting hard; each time Harry’s prick twitched in response. Between ragged breaths, Harry let out a low moan as he tangled his fingers in Sirius’s hair.

“You like this, Harry?” growled Sirius. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” As he asked this, he slid his hand around Harry’s sac and gently squeezed it.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “S’good.” Harry’s eyes rolled back into his head as Sirius, who had licked his way down to Harry’s groin, swiped his tongue up the length of Harry’s cock.

“Love the way you taste,” muttered Sirius. He swirled his tongue around the tip of Harry’s erection before sucking it ever so slowly into his mouth. Despite his efforts to keep still, Harry couldn’t help but rock his hips, unable to resist the urge to fuck Sirius’s mouth.

After teasing Harry mercilessly for several minutes by repeatedly bringing him to the brink of orgasm before backing off for a bit, Sirius licked his way up to Harry’s mouth. Harry kissed him hungrily. His hands flew over Sirius’s exposed skin, and now that it was in reach, Harry grasped Sirius’s prick, rubbing it eagerly.

“Can’t remember ever wanting someone this much,” Sirius gasped. Harry kissed and licked and bit his neck, trying to imitate what Sirius had done to him earlier. “Gonna die if I don’t fuck you soon.”

“Yes, need you now,” whimpered Harry. “Please, Sirius.”

With practiced motions, Sirius found his wand on the bedside table and quickly cast a lubrication charm. Harry gasped with nearly every thrust of fingers as Sirius prepared him, letting out what was almost an undignified squeal whenever Sirius rubbed against his prostate. He was more than ready by the time Sirius pushed himself inside.

Harry opened his eyes to focus on Sirius’s face, which wore a taut expression that could have easily passed as either pleasure or pain. Harry raised his hips higher, hooking his ankles behind Sirius’s broad back. He wanted more and harder and faster and now. Beads of sweat formed on his lover’s brow, and Harry knew that it wouldn’t be long before Sirius came. He snaked a hand between their bodies and pumped his cock each time Sirius pulled back.

“Harry…Harry,” chanted Sirius, whispering his name like an ancient invocation to the gods.

Finally, Harry couldn’t hold back any longer, and he came with a loud moan. Sirius must have been waiting for that moment, because he spilled inside Harry only seconds later. The two of them rode out their orgasms together, panting, stroking and kissing tenderly.

Harry had usually felt awkward after sex, but now, with Sirius gently caressing his hip and ghosting his lips across Harry’s cheek, he only felt a sense that being here with Sirius was incredibly right. He ran his fingers through Sirius’s hair before trailing them lightly down his cheek.

“Any regrets?” Harry asked after a while.

“Millions. Not the least of which is not doing this the minute you moved in here. It seems I’m a champion at wasting precious time.”

“And to think McGonagall kept telling me you were prone to making rash decisions.”

Sirius shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about what she’s going to say about this one.”

“I’m sort of looking forward to it. I’m so sick of the damned Order telling me what to do all the time that it’ll be nice to remind them that they can’t make decisions for me anymore.”

“The Daily Prophet is going to have a field day with us, you know.”

Harry grinned. “We do make an interesting couple, don’t you think? The Boy Who Lived and the Man Who Died But Really Didn’t. Just watch – they’ll try to spin it as an ‘opposites attract’ story, when really we’re just two dysfunctional wizards who’ve each finally found a kindred spirit.”

“I think your dad would have liked this,” mused Sirius.

Harry opened his eyes wide. “Really?”

“Yeah. There were few things he enjoyed more that sticking it to the Establishment. Used to spend hours trying to think up new ways to piss off Dumbledore.”

Snickering, Harry shifted so he could kiss Sirius more easily. “Are you done being a proper gentleman? Because I’m anxious to have you properly bugger me again like you promised.”

“Insatiable,” teased Sirius. “Just like me.”

 

finis


End file.
